


Feral Beings

by CoffeeQuill



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bickering, Bonding, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Blood, Patching Each Other Up, Touch-Starved, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeQuill/pseuds/CoffeeQuill
Summary: Vanth’s movements slowed, and after a few moments he wasn’t addressing the cut at all. His thumb had drifted lower, dragging the gel with it, and… he was just rubbing the gel into Din’s skin as though in a trance, feeling him. His eyes drifted up to his helmet, as though he knew exactly where Din’s eyes were.Din didn’t feel a need to pull away.---On the way to the Krayt, Din and Vanth get ambushed. In the aftermath, both could use some patching up.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Cobb Vanth
Comments: 13
Kudos: 156





	Feral Beings

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely self-indulgent fic where I just wanted Din and Vanth tenderly addressing each other's wounds. It turned a little bit angsty, but...
> 
> Featuring the "multiple engineers in my family but I understand nothing" type of mechanics.
> 
> Sands of Time (/DinCobb) [discord](https://discord.gg/zEwyCKqrcB)  
> My [Discord](https://discord.gg/UwZuG6N)  
> My[Tumblr](https://coffeequill.tumblr.com/)  
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/coffee_quill)

“Always does this, no worries.”

Din leaned against his bike and watched with crossed arms. The towering edge of the canyon wall above them provided shade from the sun and its direct heat as Vanth knelt beside his speeder, a panel open and tool in hand as reached into the engine of the former podracing engine. The baby cooed, squirming restlessly in his bag, and Din glanced at him before looking back.

“If we ever  _ want  _ to get to the krayt drag—”

“I’m  _ fixin’  _ it.”

Din stood with a sigh and began to pace around his bike with the same restlessness that the baby showed. As the podrace engine sparked, a humming beginning and dying out, Vanth grumbled and Din leaned down to grab the kid out of the bag. “Stay close,” he muttered, and the kid whined as he looked around. He began to wander, bending down to inspect a rock.

They were only just starting to get towards the canyons when the bike broke down, smoking and hissing, but the sun was moving across the sky. By Vanth’s last estimate, they were racing the clock to get to the dragon’s cave before sundown, and this little pit stop wasn’t helping. He supposed there was little rush, but Din didn’t fancy staying on Tatooine for longer than they had to.

“Do you  _ actually  _ know how to fix it?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ve done it a million times! Just sit still, I got it.”

Din huffed. “We don’t have the daylight for this.”

“Yeah, I  _ know.” _

Provoking Vanth wasn’t going to get them much more in the way of results, Din would admit. He leaned down to stretch instead, work out some of the tension in his legs after sitting so long, and the baby squeaked. Din looked over and watched as he began to wander towards the sand lizards, both curiosity and hunger on his face.

“Hey,” Din said. The kid stopped and looked up at him. “No.”

The kid stared, then turned more fully. “Aaabah.”

“No. That’s not food.”

The baby’s expression, and ears, fell. “Batuuu, baa-”

“I said no.”

The lizards scattered all at once and the kid’s face scrunched up with tears ready to fall. “Shit,” Din muttered, and he stepped around the bike. “No, hey, don’t cr—“

The baby let out a wall, long and tapered into a shriek, with all the distress of a tired and cranky child. He fell back onto his bottom, eyes squeezed shut as the tears rolled down his cheeks, and wailed  _ louder. _

Vanth whipped around. He quickly stood, eyes big as he looked at the kid, then at Din. “Quiet him down,” he hissed, eyes darting up to the cliffs above. His hand drifted down towards his blaster.

Without further question, Din turned and snatched the baby into his arms. “Hey,” he said quickly. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’ll get you food. Kid, please…”

“Here. He liked meat?”

Din looked over as Vanth grabbed a satchel off the other side of his speeder and pulled a box from it. He came right over and lifted out a strip of cooked meat. It was bantha, Din assumed, with some spice cooked into it, and he was quick to grab the strip. “Kid,” he said, holding it just above him.  _ “Kiiiiid.  _ You’re hungry?”

The baby’s eyes opened and, at the sight of the meat, stopped crying. He quieted down with widened eyes and instead let out only a soft whine. He reached up for it, making a breathy coo, and Din lowered it into his reach. Both watched in silence as the meat was devoured in seconds, barely chewed, straight down the hatch. As the kid swallowed and licked his lips, looking up at Din, Vanth’s eyebrows raised.

“Bottomless pit, huh?”

“Seems that way.”

Vanth shrugged and turned back to his bike. He hesitated there, turning to glance over the tiny box of tools that was lashed to the side of the speeder, and Din could just barely notice him bite his lip with hesitation. With a semi-sated child, Din returned to his own speeder, sitting in the seat with almost a sense of smugness.

“You can’t fix it,” he said.

“I just…” Vanth let out a breath. “It’s a different problem, I think. It’s usually just the one…”

“Let me look. Take him.”

Vanth looked back at him, then handed over the tool in a trade. He awkwardly took the baby into his arms, trying to figure out how to hold him best, and Din took the sparker before walking to the speeder. He crouched down, then lowered onto one knee as he looked into the engine’s panel. He reached up to switch his visor’s settings and brighten the area, but nothing looked… wrong.

“Abaaah!” the kid cooed.

“I see you,” Vanth said.

“Badah — batu!”

“Hush, now.”

The kid quieted down and Din could shift his focus back to the bike. But… no, there was nothing there. “What’s the usual issue?” he started. “The one what?”

“It’s a wire. Keeps getting knocked loose. Here—”

He heard footsteps and the scrape of dusty stone before clinking armor. Vanth dropped down beside him on one knee, kid clutched in his arms, and the baby cooed up at Din. Their shoulders bumped, the metal making a solid  _ clink,  _ as Vanth leaned into him to reach into the engine as well. Din froze and swallowed, far too aware of the marshal’s thigh pressing into his own. “That wire — it’s the grey. Keeps coming loose out of the board. Don’t even know what it is, but it’s usually what shuts the whole thing down.”

Din hesitated, but he leaned in closer to Vanth,  _ just to actually see.  _ The man’s smooth but raspy voice, with the subtle accent,  _ didn’t  _ get to him. He  _ didn’t  _ feel his warmth, somehow a soothing kind of warmth in a place like Tatooine rather than overbearingly hot.

_ Don’t freeze up. _

“That’s lighting,” he got out. “Power source for the lights. It comes out, engine shuts down.”

“Why?” Vanth looked at him. “Ain’t even got lights.”

“It was a podracing engine,” Din said. “The lights were for the cockpit to tell you what was going on with the engine. If it can’t tell you it’s about to explode, it makes sure no explosion can happen.”

Vanth grumbled. “Well, that’s not even the problem. So what’s—“

From above came a shriek and then a weight slamming into Din, splitting them apart with startled shouts.

Din hissed, hip aching from the heavy weight that landed on him, and then shouted at the slice of a blade across his bicep. He whipped around and grabbed the arm of the figure — small but bigger than a jawa, Din seizing the hand that held the blade as his fist cracked across their face. The creature let out a pained shriek and as Din shoved them aside, he twisted around onto a knee and then up.

The baby squealed.

Din looked down to the ground but couldn’t spot the kid. Several feet away, Vanth was on his feet, ducking beneath an attacker’s swing before throwing a punch across their face. There were four — no, five men, clothed in robes, various heights—

Vanth pulled his blaster and shot through one’s stomach just as a shot ricocheted off Din’s pauldron. He turned just in time for the butt end of a rifle to strike across his helmet and he gasped, stumbling back in a daze, just as another body grabbed him from behind to pin his arms. The sun shone straight into his visor and he squinted at the bright spot before a fist slammed into his gut.

Din groaned, wind knocked from him. He threw his head back, hearing a satisfying  _ crunch,  _ and kicked his heel forward into the man in front. The attacker gasped and stumbled back, hands covering his crotch, while Din drove his elbow back into the one holding him. A pained gasp and a shift in weight gave him room to flick his wrist, his flamethrower roaring to life.

_ “Shabiit!” _

The attacker flailed to get away from him, letting out a startled shout as the flames crackled and ate at his clothes. Din turned and stepped back with a hinge, eyes widening as a blaster came up and he threw his forearms together to block the bolt. The bolt deflected back and struck the attacker’s shoulder. The man stumbled back with a cry, grabbing at the wound, and Din pulled his own blaster to shoot him dead.

As the end of the muzzle smoked, Din took a deep breath and turned. The baby let out another cry but Din still couldn’t see him, the ground bare where the sun shone and it was in the shadows that Vanth struggled against the last two marauders. “Kid!” Din shouted.

No response.

Vanth hissed as he took a knee to the gut, gripping onto the attacker’s front as tightly as they held onto his arms. The second pulled a knife, raising it to swing down, and Din lifted his blaster. But just as he squeezed, Vanth growled and dragged the first in front of him and the knife buried into the attacker’s back, just as Din’s bolt struck the second’s face. He went down in a heap.

Vanth sucked in a breath, anger written plain on his face, before driving forward against the creature nearly on top of him. Din stood in place, almost… mesmerized as he watched the two tumble to the ground. Vanth knelt on top of him. The hood came off partway and Din could see pale skin, scaly or cracked beneath.

The marshal’s blaster had fallen to the ground and as the attacker cried out in pain, grabbing at his vest, Vanth reached for the rock nearby. “W-Wait!” the man beneath shouted, but Vanth brought it down on him with a distinct  _ crack.  _ Din winced. Panting, Vanth brought it down on him a second time, and a third, until blood pooled on the ground and the man beneath him couldn’t struggle any longer. His chest heaved. He smashed the rock down again.

“Vanth,” Din said. He began to walk over. “Vanth. He’s dea—“

Vanth whipped around on him, stumbling back onto his feet with the rock in hand. His eyes were wild and his skin flushed with the adrenaline, blood splattered across his beard and armor, and Din put his hands up in surrender. “Hey,” he said. His voice came out soft. “Snap out of it. We’re okay.”

It took a moment. The marshal’s chest rose and fell with deep breath. But the clarity eased its way back into Vanth’s eyes. They seemed to soften and he lowered the rock, then letting it drop in front of his feet. “I’m… good,” he muttered, and he looked down at the man before a hand came to his arm. “I’m good now.”

Din nodded. A soft coo drew his attention and he spun around on his heel, eyes dropping to the ground. “Kid?” he demanded, eyes drawn towards Vanth’s speeder, though he still couldn’t see the kid. The sun was setting and the bike was engulfed in shadow. But he walked around the bike, seeing no sign of the kid anywhere else, his heart continuing to pump as fear threatened to—

A little shape popped out from beneath the bike and Din let out a sigh of relief. “Kid,” he sighed, bending down to scoop him up. “Damn it. You’re alright?”

The baby giggled at being lifted, cooing as he looked at Din and held his arms out. Din brought him to his shoulder and the kid snuggled in. Din stroked his back, then looked to the sky before back at Vanth, who’d come to the speeder with a sour expression. “We need to stay the night,” he said. “Any further out is just taking us into the open.”

“Damn bike,” Vanth breathed, tilting his head up to look at the sky as well. “Canyon’s probably got cover… somewhere.”

_ Somewhere. _

Din found their shelter as the dark and the cold settled in. It took a frustratingly long time, his helmet light only offering so much in one place, and walking up and down the canyon like they were lost and drunk and hopeless. The kid whined, burrowing deeper into his bike bag, and Vanth followed with one hand on the handlebars of the bike. His own helmet light was too dim to help much.

The small cave was a split in the rock, just big enough to fit through with his jetpack on, crawling on his belly. It opened to a wide space, just big enough to stand in if bent over and for them to spread out on the sandy floor. He crawled back out, they parked the bikes against the canyon wall, and both ventured back inside with their supplies. Din scanned again for any possible escapes or ways for other desert creatures to get in, but the rock was solid and the floor seemed supportive.

Vanth curled up with his back to the wall, letting the kid curl up in his lap. Din pulled out his lantern and placed it in the center, letting the light glow against the walls and the heater begin. It wasn’t much. But they could see. At the sight of the lantern, the kid crawled out of Vanth’s lap and over to it, cooing as he sat and waited for the warmth he knew it gave.

“You’re hurt,” Din said.

Vanth sat just so that the light glowed against his arm and Din could see the long slice in the fabric, the spill of darkness beneath. He hadn’t missed how Vanth clutched at his front, just above his belt. He looked at Din with almost disdain that Din knew was far more irritation from how he was feeling, then looked away.

“‘M fine,” he muttered.

“Well, if you want to attract something with your blood,” Din said.

Vanth looked at him, then down to his arm. He brought his fingers to the wound and touched it gently, wincing at the sting, and the kid turned with a ‘hm?’ He watched Vanth, then started to get up.

“No,” Din said in a firm voice. The baby stopped and looked back at him, ears lowering, and he let out a sad coo. “No. You don’t have to.”

The kid reluctantly sat and Vanth frowned, brows furrowed, as he looked up at Din. “The hell?”

“He has healing powers,” Din said.

“He…”

“I’m not using a  _ baby _ to heal,” Din said in a plain voice, and he turned to grab their small bag of supplies and rummage through it for anything medical. “What do you have in here?”

“Bandages. There’s…” Vanth sat up and winced. “A gel we make. Ain’t bacta but it’ll seal a wound and disinfect while it heals.”

He supposed that was the tube of white gel. He pulled it out and set it on his leg, then a small roll of bandages. “Do you still wrap it?”

“Yes.”

“Come here.”

The baby watched them as both came closer to the lantern. Vanth grumbled but tugged the rip open a little more to give Din access and Din grabbed a cloth with his own waterskin. “You’re really a crotchety old man when you’re hurt,” Din muttered, and ignored the side-eye that only proved his point. “... You fought as a kid.”

Vanth looked at him again, jaw tightening but no further reaction as Din began to wipe up the blood. “A few fights,” he muttered. “You’re… scrawny, you’re a target, and then…” he did let out a hiss, biting his lip, as the cloth came close to the edge of the wound. “It’s all you got. For fun. So you just keep  _ doing  _ it.”

“You don’t have any form,” Din murmured, his tone one of agreement. “You just… go all in. Fighting for your life. You haven’t changed that with the armor.”

“Change,” Vanth said.

“Using it. It does more than deflect blaster bolts.” The blood came away; the cut was deeper in the muscle than it had looked. He bit his lip in sympathy and grabbed the gel. “Use the gauntlets to block, take a hit…”

“Won’t matter,” Vanth said. “You’re takin’ the armor if we can kill this thing.”

Din’s hands paused, then continued, squeezing some gel onto his fingers. “Right.” He’d been speaking as if he weren’t, as if he were coaching Vanth to change his method to fit the beskar. Vanth’s eyes flickered up to him, watching now, and Din swallowed. He had to take the armor. That was the plan. Sudden thoughts were…

Vanth winced as he spread the gel over the cut, eyes shut, and his fingers dug into the sand. “Shit,” he muttered. Din looked up at him, then back to the cut, gentle in how he spread the gel over the cut in its entirety. It coated over in a strip, a bit of red mixing in with it, and both looked down at it. Satisfied, Din turned and grabbed the bandage before smoothing it down over the cut. The adhesive edges stuck in place.

“Where else?” Din asked.

“I could do it mysel—“

“Let me.”

Vanth looked up at him, then turned and leaned back onto his hands. Din could see the dark stain above his hip and he undid his belt, loosening and pulling down slightly so he could tug up his shirt. As his stomach was exposed, Din could see the slice a few inches above his hip, and just above his belt.

For a moment, Din almost stopped at the sight of skin, but kept going. He took the wet cloth again and began to clean away the sticky blood, trying to keep his eyes from roaming even when his helmet could hide it. Vanth was strong, but not obviously so; his muscles showed beneath taut skin with plenty of faded scars that spoke of a difficult life. Mos Pelgo was a mining settlement, after all, and physical labor built strength.

Vanth hissed beneath him as he pressed too hard and more blood spilled from the slice, bright red and warm. “Sorry,” Din muttered, and he reached back to grab another cloth from the pack. He wiped it up, the blood soaking into the material, and the kid whined. Din looked at him. “No,” he said firmly. “Hush.”

“Could use it,” Vanth muttered.

“He’s a kid, not a medical droid.” He wouldn’t use either. The kid’s desire to heal his cuts and bruises at every turn was less than ideal, but the thought of just using a child under his protection to heal everything with ease made his stomach turn. It could make things easier, but the exploitation of it felt… filthy. Especially when he’d seen the toll of the kid’s powers when he exerted himself.

He pressed the cloth to Vanth’s side. The marshal let out a pained breath but didn’t squirm away, accepting it, falling onto his elbows and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling instead. The kid got up and came over. Din looked at him, ready to warn him back, but the kid settled down at Din’s side and leaned against his thigh instead. Din paused, watching him, and then turned his attention back.

When it seemed the flow had stopped, Din took the cloth away and carefully, with the other, cleaned again. The sand was mixing with blood and this time he managed to wipe up most of it before taking the gel. Vanth watched him, fighting a wince as Din began to smooth the gel over, and took a deep breath. They were silent but their breathing, the cave finally feeling a little warmer, and as Din smoothed the bandage over the wound, Vanth relaxed.

“You, now?”

Din stared at him, then down to his arm. He’d almost forgotten he’d taken a slice, the pain dulled down to a background throb, and he reached over to touch at it. “I’m alright,” he said.

“Bullshit,” Vanth said. He was careful in pushing himself up, kneeling in the sand. “Come here.”

Din sighed, but handed over the bag and turned to the side. It would be difficult to reach when his suit was form-fitting and the slice so clean. But Vanth seemed to determined to do it anyway, wetting the cloth again with little care for the blood already there, and pulled the fabric apart further to slip it beneath. Din winced. But he didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, refusing to do so as he held stock still.

“Not that bad,” Vanth whispered.

The marshal’s touch was surprisingly gentle after the initial wipe. He grabbed the gel and squeezed out some onto his thumb, holding Din’s arm with both hands. Slow and steady, he smeared the gel onto his skin like causing more pain was the last thing he wanted to do.

He pressed a little too hard. Din bit into his lip, swallowed back the noise in his throat, letting it pass. He didn’t want Vanth to pull away. He could hear his own heartbeat, and Vanth’s breath, the low hum of the lantern, a breeze outside. Vanth’s movements slowed, and after a few moments he wasn’t addressing the cut at all. His thumb had drifted lower, dragging the gel with it, and… he was just rubbing the gel into Din’s skin as though in a trance, feeling him. His eyes drifted up to him, as though he knew exactly where Din’s eyes were.

Din didn’t feel a need to pull away. No one had ever touched him so carefully, with concern, with the desire to help rather hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched his bare skin. It felt… nice. Odd and foreign but nice. He held Vanth’s gaze and his own breath.

But Vanth seemed to realize himself and he straightened up, hand disappearing. Din frowned beneath the helmet. Vanth grabbed a smaller bandage patch and slipped it beneath the fabric to smooth over. “There,” he said.

“Thank you,” Din said. Vanth nodded. He closed up the kit and separated, pushing himself back towards the wall, his back hitting it with a tired breath. He took off his jetpack with a  _ hiss.  _ Din watched him, then looked down to the kid, who returned his gaze with sleepy eyes. “... Good night.”

“Night, Mando,” Vanth said, a softness to his voice.

Din took a place at the other side of the cave, giving himself a good angle to see through the entrance, and brought the kid to his hip. The baby cooed as he settled against Din, snuggling in, and Din crossed his arms. He took a deep breath, watching Vanth out of the corner of his HUD, the fluttering in his stomach… unbearable.

Vanth looked towards him. He looked Din over, side-eyeing as though he thought Din couldn’t see. Finally he returned his gaze ahead and shut his eyes, shifting to get comfortable, and Din knew that his fluttering was from disappointment.

In the morning, Din figured out the problem with the speeder. It was a loose wire elsewhere in the engine, knocked loose in a similar fashion to what its usual issue was. Din managed to secure it in place with tape and the speeder fired up with no problem.

“Thanks,” Vanth said with a grin.

Din nodded. He returned to his own bike, the kid planted back in the bag and babbling away at him. Vanth climbed into his seat and they both hit the pedal, starting forward, slow to make their way through the canyon in the morning sun.

Neither spoke of the night before.

The pain lingered in the sensitivity of their injuries, but they did not look at each other. Even as the feeling of Vanth touching him so delicately lingered in his mind, the first to do so in decades, the marshal did not look at him for long and Din forced himself to look ahead.

When they’d cleared the canyons, continuing to speed through the desert, Vanth looked at him. Din looked back. Vanth smiled slightly, and Din offered a nod, regripping the handlebars.

Somehow, it felt a quiet secret between them, and one he was happy to keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Sands of Time [discord](https://discord.gg/zEwyCKqrcB)  
> My [Discord](https://discord.gg/UwZuG6N)  
> My[Tumblr](https://coffeequill.tumblr.com/)  
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/coffee_quill)


End file.
